Mortification
by Nolitari
Summary: Threeshot. Lindir of Imladris is innocenty preparing music for one of Elrond's favourite events, the Fall Festival. A time of eating, dancing, and drinking potent wine. But that's not all a day can have in store.
1. Locked Hearts and Stolen Keys

**Mortification**

By Nolitari

**Disclaimer: I own not the Lord of the Rings nor Strawberry Shortcake. It was written to entertain myself, and hopefully someone else.**

**Happy Birthday, Ariel! I hope you enjoy this. I promise being a Sue while I write isn't _that_ bad. Well, maybe it is.  
**

o-o-o-o-o

Birthday gifts. They can be ever so enjoyable, or mortifying. As this putrid pink Strawberry Shortcake notebook was a birthday gift from Arwen. I hate this notebook. It's pink, for Valar's sake! But of course, I must use it so Arwen doesn't feel insulted. Touchy Elf-maidens and their fathers that happen to be my Lord...

Anyway, back to the point. Birthdays can be the most terrifying thing one can experience. I for one, get the scariest gifts out of all the inhabitants of Middle-earth. At least, that is what Rumil says, but he doesn't know anything. He _is_ a Lothlorien Elf, after all. And the Lothlorien Elves aren't very smart.

Just don't tell Celeborn I said that.

Weeks before my own birthday, Elrond surprised me by saying the Fall festival fell on the day of my birthday. (How he remembered, I know not. Or why he cared, I know not.) He said that I would be providing the music. Finally, I had something to do. The monotony of Imladris was starting to take its toll on me.

Of course, all minstrels compose ballads and lays in the courtyards, which is where I was, innocently preparing music, doing nothing to provoke anything so horrid. I saw it. The horrid creature.

It was a tragedy had not happened for hundreds of years.

And it was a Mary-sue.

It brings back terrifying memories to even write that word down. Ah, but I must, for the younger generations to learn about my mortifying experience.

This Mary-sue was even more annoying than the one that was spotted and a few hundred years back. She hobbled on the leaf covered courtyards, groaning in what I suspected as pain. And it was even worse. She was coming in _my _direction!

_Ah! No! Elrond's over there! Please, do go bother him. No one ever does!_

"Lindir, My Love!" She shouted. I cringed. I knew that I was the next unfortunate victim. I knew that I could come out of this as an insane Elf. I knew that I most likely would end up in the healing wards with an unstable mind. Or I could be on a ship to Valinor, while in a straight jacket. The last Elf chosen for torture never came back. Even to today we wonder what happened to the unfortunate soul.

I started to panic once she came closer while declaring her love for me. Yet...there was something about her. Like how chocolate makes you feel all giddy inside. She _was_ beautiful. Then it struck me. This was the thing that the Anti-Sue Team had warned us about hundreds of years ago before their organization was shut down by rabid Dwarves.

I wonder what the Dwarves had against the Anti-Sue Team. Was it because the Dwarves never got any Sues? (It was probably their hatred towards the Elves. I knew those... beings were never to be trusted.)

"Lindir! Darling! Don't leave me out here! Please! My name is Narielle, the daughter of Sauron and the Lady Galadriel!"

Now that, that right there was disturbing. I'm very sure Celeborn would be exteremly jealous, and I don't believe Elrond would be thrilled to have a dark lord as his father-in-law. What strange family reunions those would be.

_"'Hello. You must be Elrond. You can just call me Pops. Sweetie here has told me many things about you. Especially the part about your ring...can I have it?'"_

Very strange indeed. But we must not stray from the point. Ah, where was I?

Oh, yes. The Sue.

Screeching, I ran as fast as I could to the nearest door, hoping to lose the so-called 'Narielle' in the maze of hallways. Anyone could get lost in that bloody huge house.

_It's my birthday soon. And this is what I get for a gift! What have I done to deserve so? _

Apparently I had done many things. But mourning my wrong doings to deserve such a fate wasn't going to make the Sue disappear anytime soon.

Since it was near the festival, many Elves were putting up decorations. And it is not wise to run through the same corridors which they are preparing, for I ran straight into one Elf who was not in the best of moods...

"Lindir, you clumsy fool! Look at the mess you've made!"

I gasped for breath and looked into the face of an infuriated Erestor.

"You look as if there's a band of orcs chasing you." He said dryly. It might as well have been an orc.

"No...It's back again." I panted. Erestor looked at me, horrified.

"It...? You mean..."

"...The Sue."

"Oh, Valar! Not again! Where is it?" Panic started to appear on Erestor's face, as well as a few other Elves standing nearby, shrieking amongst themselves.

Then, we heard the none-too-distant voice of the Sue, saying, "Lindir, love! Come here my darling! I need you to play me some music so I can recover from the battle. You know, the one where I slew a great multitude of Orcs with my perished step-brother's," (here she sniffled a bit, for added effect) "sword, with no knowledge of swordsmanship whatsoever. Then I hiked for fifty miles until I stumbled upon this lovely little valley -- and you, Lindir, my love."

With every word she came closer, and with every word spoken out of her evil mouth, we took a step back, until she appeared around a corner, bandaged, bleeding, and miserable looking, yet maintaining her beauty. Oh, I wanted to help her _so_ bad. But I knew that I shouldn't. I couldn't. I mustn't!

So I ran instead, as did the other Elves. The Sue started to hobble faster. For an injured Elf-maiden, or so she _seemed_ an Elf-maiden, she could limp quickly. That made me doubt if she was even injured at all.

"IT'S A MARY SUE! SCATTER --" Erestor's warning was cut short when he collapsed to the ground, just as the other few Elves had run off in opposite directions. The bloody Sue had just hit Erestor in the back of the head with a pot that was so conveniently lying nearby. Grinning in satisfaction, while I gaped in shock, Narielle turned at me and looked at me with a somewhat evil grin.

"Hello, Lindir." She said. "Why do you run from me? Am I that horrible?"

Narielle started to break down in tears when I said she was. She had finally gotten to me.

"Don't worry, love," A part of me screamed to sock her and run away, but the other said the opposite. "You're not horrible at all."

_Valar save me._

o-o-o-o-o

Hours had gone by.

Elrond was busy with preparations for the festival, so his eldest son was the unlucky one to treat Narielle's superficial 'battle' wounds. She was on the other side of the heavy curtain, waiting for Elladan.

"Lindir, don't get too close to…it." said Elladan in a low voice while trying to untangle a roll of bandages from the arm of a chair; which was probably Estel's doing. "You know what happened to the other Elf. I don't think you want to be the next victim to a horrid fate."

"Why not? She's not like the other one at all. Not at all."

Elladan looked up at me, obviously horrified, for he dropped the bandages that he had so far rolled up. "Lindir, no!" he exclaimed. "You're falling under its spell!"

I remember giggling a young Elf-maiden, then saying, "Silly Elladan! How can such a beautiful maiden cast spells? She's too kind. Isn't she just _wonderful_?"

Elladan grabbed my shoulders and shoved me into the bandage-clad chair. "Don't you move!" said he in a threatening tone. I didn't hear him. Instead I was grinning from ear to ear, thinking of how breathtaking Narielle was.

If I was in a correct state of mind, I probably would have heard Elladan mutter, "I'm going to get my father," as he walked off with all speed to Lord Elrond's study. Then I probably would have realized that my next outfit would have a straight jacket included.

Apparently Narielle was getting impatient, for she poked her head through the curtains. "Lindir, love, why isn't that handsome Elladan treating my grievous wounds? I'm suffering here!"

Immediately I jumped to my feet. "You are in pain? Need I go get a healer?" I asked frantically as I made her sit on a sofa.

"Oh, no, my love. But will you sing me a song? Play me something on one of your instruments?" asked Narielle in a pained voice. How could I resist? She seemed to be so tormented by pain…

_One song won't hurt._

So I sang to her. It went something like this.

_My heart is locked,  
And you hold the key.  
Many roads have I walked,  
An idle word wasted, an empty sea  
Of no belonging...Until you.  
Is this your way? To capture me?  
The way you tore my heart in two,   
Maybe never to be healed,  
I shall never regret, though I suffer.  
Your beauty and your strength you wield,   
So I love you, I am your lover._

Every time I re-read that, I gag and think unhappy thoughts of my experience. Remembering her falling asleep with a smile on her face is something I wish to forget.

o-o-o-o-o

_Author's Notes: The sappy love ballad Lindir sang to the Sue was written by my dear friend, **Lindele**. Thank you, mellon-nin! _


	2. A Task Force Reformed

**Mortification**

**Disclaimer: I own not _The Lord of the Rings_. This was written to entertain myself, and hopefully someone else.**

**A Task Force Reformed**

_Note: I'm no medical genius. So correct me if I have made a misdiagnoses. _

**o-o-o-o-o**

The following is what I have gathered from many Elves who attended the Supply Room Meeting. Almost all their stories conflicted with one another, but there are many things that are included in all their statements.

Like how Estel found the joy in poking Elves.

Erestor was found by the young mortal, who obviously thought it was peculiar that an Elf would take a nap with his eyes closed – and in a hallway, too. To see what would happen if one poked a sleeping Elf, Estel prodded Erestor's side. Although when he started to open Erestor's eyes for him, the Elf protested with a shout.

"Ai! Estel! What are you trying to do? Poke my eye out?"

"No, I'd get in trouble for that."

Erestor rolled over and sat himself up against the wall. No, the floor looked much to unsteady to stand on. Erestor told me that it reminded him of the time Glorfindel insisted he go on a 'boat ride' with him down the Brunien. The 'boat ride' was more like a primitive form of white water rafting, except without the necessary safety precautions. And it didn't help that the water was frigid cold.

From that day on, Erestor refused to go anywhere near water with that foolhardy Glorfindel. Not that I blame him, of course.

"Erestor, why were you sleeping on the floor? Did you find the worms I put in your bed this morning?"

The chief advisor looked at the child with disgust.

"No, Estel. I wasn't sleeping…. Ah! The Sue! Where is she? I'm going to make sure her passing is slow and agonizing…"

"Sue? What's that?"

"I can't explain Estel… You'll understand when you are older. But have you seen an Elf-maiden around here that you don't know?"

"Yea. I saw one with Lindir. Over in the healing wing, I think."

Erestor rolled his eyes. It wasn't _my_ fault that I had fallen for her!

Now the floor didn't seem to be moving as much. The Elf deemed it safe to stand on. So he stood up, using Estel as a cane.

"Hey, Erestor."

"What, Estel?"

"You've got some pottery in your hair."

o-o-o-o-o

"Lindir has _what_?" Elrond asked incredulously from behind a rather large Mirkwood Wine advertisement. "I cannot say he doesn't deserve it."

"Adar, he's surely and slowly falling under that treacherous creature's curse. What if he disappears and never returns?"

A grin spread across Elrond's face. "And that's a bad thing?" (I knew he never liked me. When he humiliates himself, which isn't hard for him to do, I'll make sure to be extra 'considerate'.)

"Adar! Lindir is annoying at times, but we can't let another Elf fall victim to one of…them!"

"How can we prevent something that's already happening?" Elrond muttered as he cleaning off his reading glasses. (You are probably wondering why an Elf wears…glasses. See, as a young Elfling, Elrond sat much too close to the television, and never ate his carrots. Therefore, his eyesight worsened as his age went hundreds of years higher.)

"To do so," Elladan smirked, "we must get rid of the so-called 'Daughter of Sauron and Galadriel'."

Elrond looked at his eldest, horrified. Who would think of such a revolting pair? Galadriel, as_ lovely_ as she was, deserved much better than a Dark Lord who probably thought Elf-jerky made an excellent afternoon snack. Well, when he had a body, of course.

"Changed your mind, Adar?"

"Yes, yes I have. Gather up my Erestor, Glorfindel, and your brother. We've got an emergency."

"What about Lindir?"

"NO!" The Lord of Imladris shouted as quietly as possible. "He will be singing sappy love ballads to the wretched creature. If he knew of our plot to rid Imladris of her, he'd surely run to Mirkwood and elope with the thing."

Elladan turned on his heel and walked out of the room, long robes swishing all about.

o-o-o-o-o

Apparently, the Elves didn't keep their stories straight. So they were all different. But upon interviewing them, I used the points I like the most.

"Friends of distant lands…"

"If the library is distant, then I'm foreign."

"Wrong speech, Elrond."

"Well, sorry! Where was I? Oh, yes. Friends of…Imladris, we are gathered here today to discuss the most urgent matter to strike Imladris in years. A terrible thing is happening to one of our fellow Elves, and friends. Lindir has fallen under the charm of a Sue, who claims to be the daughter of Sauron and Galadriel, a mortal-turned-Elf-maiden. She calls herself 'Narielle'. We must find a way to stop her, lest we have an epidemic on our hands."

Elrohir tried to stand up to state his opinion on disposal of Sue matter, but he stepped on a rake instead, hitting himself in the head with the wooden handle. Have you ever seen anyone do that? I find it quite amusing; though Elrohir did not.

The dazed Elf held a hand to his head, and stooped down so he did not bang into a shelf holding a lot of rusty gardening tools.

"As I was going to say," he continued, quite slowly. "The best way to get rid of Sue is to push it off of something. A balcony, cliff, waterfall, cavern --"

"But that's so unoriginal!" Elladan protested.

"Yes, but effective!"

"Since when did you have to figure that out?"

"Remember that one Elven beauty in Mirkwood? The one who stalked me?"

"Yes, I remember her. Breathtaking."

"What Elven maiden, Elrohir?"

"Uh… no one, Adar."

"How could she be no one? You pushed her off of a bloody cliff!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did – Ai! Why did you throw that trowel at me!"

"SIELNCE!" Elrond bellowed. Pots on the shelf shook. "Elrohir, don't worry, your head will stop bleeding… eventually, and Elladan, act like your age!"

"I don't want to interrupt any family matters, but Elrond, we must get on with it." Erestor said from his lovely pile of burlap sacks.

"Wha? I think the blood loss is making me delirious."

"Oh, shut up, Elrohir. It's barely a paper cut."

"You call _this_ a paper cut? I'll probably get tetanus!"

"What's that?"

"I said we need to get on with it!" The chief advisor shouted.

At last there was silence. Elrohir dizzily sank down into a rather oversized pot.

Glorfindel spoke up. "When we had a Mary-sue in Imladris years ago, we found a very successful way of ridding the valley of Sues."

"What was that?" Elrohir inquired. "Did you push her off of a cliff?"

Erestor jabbed Elrohir in the side. He whispered, "You know Glorfindel is sensitive about cliffs and heights!"

The younger of the two twins looked over at the Balrog slayer, who looked as if he was going have an emotional breakdown. Now he states he was _not _going to have an emotional breakdown, but some dust had settled in his eyes.

"No…" the golden-haired Elf said after a moment of regaining his composure. "She choked on her cannoli."

The Elves looked up at Glorfindel. It was a good idea, simple, effective, and unsuspicious.

"But how do we make her choke on it? There's one flaw already." Erestor rubbed his temples in frustration in the all too common Elven fashion.

"We can always douse the pastry in that new pepper Elladan brought home from Bree. What was it called? Cayenne? I saw him choking on it after he doused a piece of cheese with it." Elrohir suggested.

Elladan glared at his twin. He was humiliated when a few of Elrond's paramedic Elves had to perform that new procedure… what was it again? CPR? I believe it was. Elrond sat calmly, continuing to eat his cheese, while Elladan flailed about as if he was trying to fly. Little did we know he just wanted water!

"I suppose it will work," growled Elladan. "If you bring that up again, _little brother_, I'll make sure _you_ choke on a piece of cheese."

Elrohir gave his twin a cold glare that boldly wrote murder in his eyes.

"Great!" Elrond slapped his knee. "Now, I'm late for my meeting."

Erestor was worried. He knew all about Elrond's meetings. Had he forgotten? He couldn't have forgotten. He had the best memory of them all! He could remember nearly everything. At least, he thought he could remember everything. "What meeting is it, Elrond? Need I come? Did I forget? Please don't put me on stable duty!"

"Oh, I won't, Erestor. But I would rather go alone."

"Why?"

"I have to use the little Elfling's room…"

o-o-o-o-o

While the others were conspiring among one another, Narielle and I were taking a walk through the gardens. She had only slept briefly, _very_ briefly, and demanded that I take her on a grand tour. The Sue was limping much less; in fact, you could barely tell she had sprained anything at all.

I heard many Elves murmuring sympathetically in the company of each other, it was mostly about my fate and how they 'pitied me so'. Though, at the time, I cared less on what they said.I cared only for Narielle, and the story of her long and _tragic_ life. She had met up with her unknown step-brother brother when she was cast of out Southern Mirkwood and traveled to Bree. Then they decided to tour Lothlorien, so Narielle could meet up with her 'mommy'. Then things went ill. Her so called 'step-brother' (I doubt he existed), perished while fighting off a rather moronic band of orcs. Since the said orcs were so moronic, Narielle was able to ward them off easily. They probably would have dropped dead if she asked them to do so.

"Lindir, love, what is it like in Rivendell?"

"Oh, most interesting. Nearly everyone – including Lord Elrond – wants to snap the strings on my harp and smash my other instruments."

Narille was horrified. Though I doubt it was real. She was of Sue kind. They are not to be trusted. Despite the fact that I was under her spell, so I did not realize it. If I wasn't, I'm sure I would have made use of a sword. Well, a butter knife would've been easier to handle, but much less effective…

"How could they take away the equipment of a genius composer?" she asked in a melodious voice. It was so wondrous, like warm butter on the head of a bald mortal.

I blushed. "You flatter me…l-lo-"

Narielle was ecstatic. She squealed, "You were going to call me your _love_!" then hugged me. I believe I lost about twenty percent of my lung capacity.

"Er…yes…I was…" I choked out. She let go.

"Oh, Lindir! I love you!"

_Just back away slowly. Then run away. Don't let her…_

She put a rather loud kiss on my face.

…_kiss you. Lindir, you idiot! Go scrub your face with a disinfectant! Now!_

o-o-o-o-o

Long and torturous days passed. Narielle clung to my arm as I prepared music. Most were love ballads, which would surely disappoint the twins. I had promised I would try out some new songs, but Narielle had convinced me that romantic songs were better than the twins' music, which they called 'rap'.

Each day I taught Narielle how to play the instrument of her choice. She selected a harp; simple, yet elegant. At the time I was very elated to teach her. Now, I am appalled to have done such a thing, her melodious voice drifting upon the wind…

Ah, I shall be right back. I'm running out of ink. Mayhap I can 'borrow' a bottle from the library.

That was harder than I thought. I had to fight Erestor for the bottle. I won.

As I was saying, her voice seemed to flow with the wind. Only a beauty such as Narielle could have sung it.

A few more days passed; it was only a matter of hours 'til the festival. Elrohir was worried he had 'tetanus', whatever that was, for his face kept twitching, apparently. But I always thought the twitching was genetic among Elrond's family. His eyebrows twitched constantly, Galadriel's eyebrows twitched; Celeborn, fortunately, seemed to have missed out on the lovely Elven fad.

Narielle was getting ready for the festival, spending hours preparing her hair and gown. Minutes before the festival was to start, she stepped out of her quarters, in a lovely purple evening dress that seemed to turn silver if you looked at it in a different way.

"How do I look, Love?" She asked. I gazed at her lovely soft hair, so dark and soft it was; she had it done up in curls, which cascaded down her back in a waterfall of tresses. Her feather soft skin glowed like the sunset, and in her deep violet eyes there were silver sparkles of excitement and age.

I cleared my throat and bowed low. "I would be honored if such a fair lady would accompany me to the festival."

"I accept." She whispered and put a little package in my hands. "Happy birthday, love."

"You remembered? No one remembers! Ooh, what is it?" Like an Elfling at winter solstice, I tore through the tissue paper to see what was underneath. Her gift to me was quite curious, for it was a small violin carved out of wood. I have sympathy for the craftsman who made that.

"It's the world's smallest violin!" giggled Narielle.


	3. And the Story Concludes

**Mortification**

By Nolitari

**Disclaimer: I do not own the _Lord of the Rings _or _Telletubbies_. I own only my computer, along with my dry and witless sense of humor. **

_Author's Notes: Forgive me for taking so long! I never intended for this to take this much time… I've been ill, and I couldn't snatch the computer with this file on it much._

o-o-o-o-o

The festival had started. Narielle and I ran into Lord Elrond, who was sitting his usual chair, sipping at a glass of a potent concoction he swears is wine.

"Good evening, Lord Elrond." Narille curtsied low. "How fares thee on such a fair night?"

Elrond took another swig of his 'wine'. "Wonderful. Eh, excuse me. I need to go talk to my head advisor. This wine isn't strong enough!" He stood up and bustled over to Erestor, who was standing by pastries. The desk-Elf was most likely inspecting the fluffy baked dough, for he is one who will accept nothing less than perfect; especially when it comes to his desserts.

Narielle grinned, and sat at her place at the oversized table. There was even a special little pastry, which was quite red, sitting on her plate. I looked mournful for our departure, and went over to my little band. We started to play one of the ballads I had written over the course of the days. The crowd was not very pleased. They pelted us with fruit and such demanding livelier music. I sighed and started to play one of Elladan's favourite songs, 'Gondorian Rhapsody'.

Elves danced, and even a few guests joined in (the visiting dwarves politely declined and said that rap was not to their tastes, but country-western was). There was plenty of food, though my band was pelted with a lot of it; and in a small corner, there was a small heap of gifts that all had my name on them. Elrond signaled that the meal was about to begin, so I told my band to stop. Elves groaned. I sat down, so I could inhale the excellent Elven fodder. The gourmet chefs had overdone themselves. Plates were laden with vegetables, cheese, meats, and if I wasn't mistaken, fried chicken. I love fried chicken. Though after I eat a whole bird I gain another inch around my waist, I believe it is worth it. And I suspected the cooks made it especially for me.

Well, maybe not. Every piece was gone before I could even grab one. I was very perplexed. So I decided to make a run for the desserts while I could. There were many on the platter. Muffins, doughnuts, and soufflés were among the many filling and sinfully delicious desserts.

Elrohir shoved a pink package into my hands with disgust. He muttered, "Arwen sent it from Lothlorien." I eyed it cautiously. I never knew what evil was hidden beneath that cheery, bright, blinding pink wrapping paper. Especially since Arwen sent it.

"Well," said Narielle. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Eyes were laid upon me, and people stopped eating in mid-bite at the melodious voice of Narielle. A few Elves started to bring me my gifts and dump them in my lap. Birthdays are something Elves love to celebrate, since we do it so little. We used to celebrate every year, but many of the tightwad Elves began to complain about the costs of gifts.

I tore into Arwen's gift. "Strawberry Shortcake?" I asked, very shocked at what I found wrapped in that pink paper.

Elrohir glanced over at me. "She said if you hated it, she would send Haldir out to use you as target practice."

Arwen always made sure to keep her promises, as she kept the one towards her poor brothers. I think the emotional scars are still there, along with the physical ones. Oh, how horrid Elflings can be.

Lying aside the notebook that screamed, 'Lindir is dead meat', I moved on to one of my distant relatives gifts… I believe she was my grandmother, or great-aunt, something. Well, I know she's as ancient as the hills.

"Go on, go on!" My grandmother coaxed, thrusting the box at me. "It doesn't bite! Go ahead and open it!"

I had no idea what that seemly innocent white box contained. And through my blind eyes I opened the top.

Then I was terrified. No, mortified was the word that fit better.

Estel says that I was turning colors, even the tips of my ears. So he turns to his foster-father and asks, "Ada, is it normal for Elves to turn red then white?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Lindir's turning colors."

He just snorted as I continued to stare at the package in disbelief. How could one buy their grandson and/or nephew something so putridly evil? They were boxer shorts. Of the worst kind.

_I thought Telletubbies were banned in Imladris…_

o-o-o-o-o

Amidst the gift giving, Elladan had stolen Narielle's pastry and taken it to a dark corridor. When Elrohir stumbled upon his twin, most likely drunk, and objected to the theft, the older twin said, "We've run out of cayenne. The cook accidentally put some of that Sue's red face powder on there when I gave her that. So I'm dumping a bottle of cinnamon oil on it."

Elladan unscrewed the bottle of the oil that could make your skin bubble. "Where'd you get that?" Elrohir asked, jealous that he hadn't sleuthed out something so deadly. The worst he had ever found was rotten tofu (when Elrond was on his 'organic diet' after Celeborn claimed he had put on a few pounds) that had been in the arsenal.

Skillfully, as if Elladan had tampered with pastries before, the Elf poured the oil on everything except himself. As soon as it had dried and showed no threat to Elf-skin, Elladan quietly made his way back into the banquet hall and sat the tampered pastry in its place.

o-o-o-o-o

After opening all my splendid gifts, including a toaster, the desserts were passed around. I sat next to Narielle, who looked as beautiful as ever. But she had to eat that pastry, she just had to eat it…

She took a large bite, and chewed with a smile for a moment, then swallowed.

Then she choked.

The Elves continued to eat their cheese, calmly, while I shouted for a paramedic team. But no team ever arrived. Narielle was beginning to turn blue. Narielle choked out her last words, "you evil Elf! Burn in the depths of Mount Doom!", then died.

Glorfindel cheered and shouted, "THE PASTRY PREVAILS! HUZZAH!"

Soon I recovered from the fog she had laid upon me. Once I came to realization, I wrote many nasty little hate ballads about her. It was such a good feeling. Almost like the feeling you get after eating a five pound chocolate bar. But that feeling can sometimes be bad. The feeling I got from writing things about her were good.

Thus ends my account of such a horrible experience. And hopefully it can entertain people, (for I know they will be laughing at my misery, almost everyone does), and educate people on how to recognize the signs of a Sue.

o-o-o-o-o

Mandos looked at his log book. "Haven't you been here before?" he asked a young Elven girl.

"Yes," she sniffled, "I was here two months ago. You kicked me out."

"YOU!" He shouted, pointing his finger. Many of the dead looked at Mandos in surprise. He never shouted unless some bad sort had arrived in his dark and brooding halls. They figured this little Elf was of the sort that Mandos liked to kick out almost every day, and would probably be banished to some place worse than the halls by next week.

"Yes sir," she squeaked, "it's me again."

"I thought it was clear to you to stay in the mines!"

"Oh, I couldn't, sir. They were horribly dirty, and the labor was too much."

"Go take a seat." Mandos growled.

The young Elven girl complied. She sat on an empty bench, for the other dead folk snarled at her when she approached. She started to whine rather loudly; the benches were too hard, the temperature was too low, she was bored, the company was dull, Mandos was mean, and on and on. It was the usual round of complaints that Mandos had heard many times before.

She continued with her annoying behavior for a few days more. And then a few more days. And then a week. There came the point where one could have claimed that Mandos was going to blow his top, again.

"That's it," he said to the Elven girl. "You're going back to the Sugar Mines of Mordor. Have a nice trip." The keeper of the dead grinned with satisfaction once she was pushed out of his doors.

An Elf, who had most likely died during the Last Alliance, murmured, "Mordor has a sugar industry? Why didn't I get into that instead of the reserves…?"

**The End.**

o-o-o-o-o

_Author's Notes: Alright, not my best ending for a story. But I wrote the last chapter late at night and with a cold. Please do review, I appreciate them very much. _


End file.
